The Last Time
by Disgruntled Peony
Summary: Some silly little piece about Arnaud being chased by Darien and Hobbes, who are being chased by Chrysalis, who are ALSO chasing Arnaud... it's confusing.


Title: The Last Time Author: liz_Z E-mail: liz_Z@secret-agent.com Category: Action, Drama Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Yes. ...What, you expected me to go into detail? Season/Sequel info: Takes place shortly after the end of the second season. Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Invisible Man'. I just like to play havoc with the characters every now and then. Author's notes: Just when I think I've retired from writing I-man fics for good, something like this jumps out and grabs me. *shakes head* I had the song 'By My Side' from 3 Doors Down on repeat the entire time I was writing this. That should tell you something about the tone this story's gonna take.  
  
"Get down!" Darien yelled, grabbing hold of Hobbes' lapels and dragging him to the ground. Half a second later a hail of gunfire impacted the wall above their heads.  
  
"I was going, I was going," Hobbes growled.  
  
"Yeah, you were going, just not fast enough," Darien replied. He Quicksilvered the two of them and stood up cautiously, wary of the gunfire which still echoed around the alley. Fortunately, most of it was no longer focused in their direction. Hobbes stood up as well, muttering something about interfering invisible crack-pot agents, which nearly made Darien laugh since Hobbes was every bit as much a crack-pot as he was. It was their very crack-pottedness that made them such a good team.  
  
They slipped carefully out of the alley, keeping a look out for their prey, the elusive Arnaud De Föhn. He had tried to give them the slip in the preceding rain of gunfire, but Darien had seen which way he'd gone and was hot on the trail. Hobbes was probably concentrating more on keeping the hold Darien had on his sleeve steady and making sure there weren't any gun- toting mercenaries hot on their trail.  
  
Darien caught a glimpse of Arnaud in the distance, his retreating frame a monochrome blur thanks to the Quicksilver vision. Darien picked up the pace, as did Hobbes a fraction of a second later.  
  
There was a time not long past when Darien would only have been able to see Arnaud when he was invisible. Hell, there was a time not long past when Darien wouldn't have been able to stay invisible for long without his id knocking on the back door of his brain. But those times were past, and he was glad of it. Things were so much simpler this way.  
  
OK, maybe not simple, he thought as a group of Armani-clad men with big guns appeared, causing Arnaud to spin around and run in a different direction.  
  
Ever since Arnaud's gland had been removed, he'd been on the run from two groups of people: the Agency, because they were out to get him anyway, and Chrysalis, because he was the only one who could produce the adrenaline necessary to activate their clones of his gland. The first batch of gunmen had been hired by Arnaud. These men clearly belonged to Chrysalis. And Arnaud wasn't the only one they were after, judging from the thermal vision sunglasses several of them had just pulled from their pockets.  
  
"Aw, crap," Darien muttered, shifting his trajectory so that he was still in pursuit of Arnaud while at the same time ducking in an attempt to avoid yet more bullets that were headed his way.  
  
"Crap is right," Hobbes muttered. He fired a few rounds back at the Chrysali, then let out a strangled yelp and nearly fell to the ground. Darien held onto him firmly and dragged him back up, but by the time they started running again Darien was certain they were leaving a trail of invisible blood.  
  
"Where're you hit?" Darien asked, worry apparent in his voice.  
  
"Shoulder, it's not that bad," Hobbes replied, but there was an edge in his voice that said otherwise.  
  
"Maybe you should stop and, you know, hide somewhere or something."  
  
"And let those butterfly-lovin' sons of bitches grab you? I don't think so, Fawkes." Hobbes resolutely kept pace, although Darien could tell it was taxing for him.  
  
Arnaud ran inside a large corporate building and Darien followed, shedding the Quicksilver as he ran through the doors so that the men in thermal gear would have a harder time spotting him and Hobbes. Arnaud scrambled into an elevator and frantically jabbed at what must have been the 'shut doors' button, since they closed a mere second before Darien and Hobbes arrived.  
  
Darien took one look at Hobbes, who was gasping for breath and bleeding extensively, and said, "There is no freakin' way we're taking the stairs."  
  
"Where... d'you think... Arnaud... will be heading?"  
  
Darien looked at the steadily climbing numbers that indicated which floor the elevator was passing through. "I'd be guessing the roof."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because every idiot in a chase-scene always heads up to the roof."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
Darien and Hobbes stepped into the next elevator that became available and got to pull the same stunt that Arnaud had pulled on them on the Chrysali cronies that had just managed to catch up. Darien glanced over at Hobbes. "That was close."  
  
Hobbes spoke through clenched teeth. "Always is."  
  
Darien leaned forward to have a closer look at Hobbes' shoulder. "Crap, that looks bad, man. Need to have Claire take a look at that when we get back to the Agency...."  
  
"If we get back."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Think about this, Fawkes. We're chasing one of your mortal enemies up to a rooftop. At the same time, we're being chased by another one of your mortal enemies who're probably gonna try and trap us on said rooftop. Put that together and what have you got?"  
  
"A bad-guy sandwich?" Darien offered helpfully.  
  
"Lotsa people who want you dead," Hobbes corrected.  
  
The elevator reached the roof with a cheerful 'ding'.  
  
"Yeah, well, some of 'em I want dead too, Hobbesy, and they're gonna know it real fast," Darien said, Quicksilvering again as he stepped out onto the windy roof.  
  
A bullet impacted the wall two inches away from Darien's shoulder and he crouched down, hissing with surprise. Arnaud's voice rang out across the concrete, mocking, "Hello again, Fawkes."  
  
"Damnit, Arnaud, how'd you know it was me?"  
  
"There was nobody in sight." Arnaud stood in the middle of the wide-spread slab of concrete roofing, his gun aimed at the doorway Darien had just come through.  
  
"Get outta the way, Fawkes," Hobbes yelled in warning. Darien ducked out of the way just as Hobbes stepped through the door, gun aimed directly at Arnaud's head.  
  
Darien saw no reason to remain invisible now that there was a gun on his side of the playing field, so he shook off the Quicksilver and grinned. "Where ya gonna go now, Arnie? Huh? You got a suicidal streak I never knew about?"  
  
"I was about to ask you the same question," Arnaud replied calmly. "I'm not the only one with a pack of Chrysalis on my tail."  
  
"Chrysali," Hobbes corrected.  
  
"The nuances of your language bore me. What exactly did you expect to do once you cornered me here? Dispose of me and then pick off Stark's men one by one?"  
  
"Actually, I'd hoped to sneak down the fire escape, but that plan looks shot," Darien said. There was no way down from the roof except the one he and Hobbes had just come through.  
  
"Listen, Da Freak," Hobbes said, "there's only two ways for you to get down from here. One way's in our custody. The other way's in theirs."  
  
"I'd prefer option C, neither. But if I must choose, I guess that yours is the lesser evil."  
  
"Wow, he actually prefers us to his fellow egomaniacs," Darien quipped.  
  
"The only way you're going to get down is with my help, so you're benefiting from this as much as I," Arnaud said.  
  
Darien didn't like that thought, but had to admit that it looked true. "OK, what's the plan?"  
  
Hobbes smiled grimly. "Shoot 'em as they come."  
  
"And hope they don't return the favor," Darien muttered.  
  
The three men, allied through desperation, all turned to look at the elevators as they let out two simultaneous dings.  
  
The End  
  
Ending author's notes: Yes, I know this is an evil way to end the story, but it wanted it this way. My spell-checker doesn't accept the word 'crack- pottedness'. Phoo on it. 


End file.
